Things Remembered
by Steve West on October 2, 2021
When I was in kindergarten, a girl brought a doll to class. It was so pretty that even the boys liked it. Everyone played with it but I was the one who broke it. She cried, of course, and I promised to get her a similar one. I asked my parents to get it for me for my birthday instead of the thing I had asked for. They agreed and thought it was a good idea. I gave it to her on my birthday. Her joy was the best payoff I could have received. At dinner, my dad gave me my own present. He said I had done the right thing and was proud of me.
One Reply to Things Remembered
Web Junkie
Steve West scours the Web searching for interest or absurdity and then shakes his head ruefully when he finds it. Read more »
My Favorite Memory
Yesterday, we held the memorial service for my father-in-law. There were approximately 100 people attending and afterward about 1/3 gathered at his home for a small meal and sharing remembrances. I chose to share my memory of the time, twenty years ago, when I asked him for his blessing for my planned proposal to Brenda, his eldest daughter. Go »The Cause And The Cure For The Munchies
So, you're an executive pothead sitting around the confernce room table with all the stoner VP's. The discussion centers on marketing a product that, while overtly illegal, has such an upside in monopolizing the market and growth potential. And whose turn is it to change the bong water, anyway? Go »Givin' It Up To The Man
There seems to be several different meanings to that phrase, these days especially. Meaning 1) A teenage girl in Germany sold her virginity online to an Italian businessman for $18000. She had hoped to raise $100K for schooling, I think. Go »Bad Jobs
I've had a few jobs that were pretty bad or at least aspects of them. We've probably all had crappy jobs like working in a kitchen or stuff that's just unpleasant or had difficult co-workers. The worst thing I was required to do was when I was working at the Department of Agriculture. Go »My Ball Got Whacked With Monkey Poo
I love miniature golf. Back in college, I spent many a drunken evening goofing off with friends, avoiding the last few pages of a term paper, or just getting the cheap thrill of pretending you're an athlete by getting your ball into Mickey Mouse's left eye to win a free game. Eat me, Arnold Palmer! Go »
Scott Hardie | October 7, 2021
That's a great story, Steve. Good on you.
If i may hijack your blog post with a story that's not so great, I've been haunted all of my life by a similar opportunity where I made the selfish choice.
When I was maybe 3, all of the neighborhood kids got invitations to a birthday party. My mother took me to the bookstore to pick out a gift, and we settled on a children's storybook about an anthropomorphized owl who delivers mail (long before Harry Potter). It came with a little toy figurine of the owl in his postal uniform, attached to the back of the book via netting made of thin cloth mesh.
I read the book, I liked the book, I wanted the book for myself, I wanted to play with the toy... I think you can see where this is going. My mother couldn't take me back to the store to buy one for me too, but I was just so desperate to play with the owl that I ripped open the netting and played with the owl and lost it. My mother didn't find out until she went to wrap it just before the party. I got a stern talking-to about things that are not mine no matter how much I want them, and then I had to hand-deliver the present with the ripped netting and missing toy.
I can't remember if i apologized to the birthday kid, but it's been decades and I have never stopped feeling guilty about it.